


Overland Adventure

by Livinglife



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Gen, first fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-02-23 11:49:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13189470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Livinglife/pseuds/Livinglife
Summary: A Death Goddess-worshiping mage, a goody-two shoes wizard student, and a unlucky dragonborn walk into a half-elf's bar, and... Drama ensues. They meet a beautiful tiefling druid, are forced to pledge allegiance to a shady dude, and this is the story of the following adventures.





	Overland Adventure

**Author's Note:**

> This is the story of my Dnd group currently- I'm just converting it to novel form, and I'm posting this mostly to keep it somewhere. Creds to my DM Dylan and all the stories he prolly ripped off creating these story lines. I don't claim ownership of anything, blah blah blah. I also have never played a full campaign before, and neither has the rest of my group. I also have never posted or written a fic before so yeah. (Kinda obviously, this is unBeta'd and pretty much unedited.) Enjoy.

Zinaerys

The little tavern on the edge of Kressia was much like the city itself. Dingy, but not decrepit; rather small, but brimful full of unique people and creatures. Down at the bar, Zinaerys poured ale into four horns with a flourish, and slid them to a group of ruffians, who smelled part ogre. In her bar, the burly man sat with a cloak covering his face didn’t seem out of place, yet upstairs, just beyond the din of glasses clinking, a royal messenger sat asleep. In some other city, the bartender might question why a royal messenger would stay in a seedier part of town, but in Kressia, there were never any questions asked.

A woman gracefully approached the bar, perching on a stool, and leaned forward to allow a few strands of hair to fall in front of her face. This dark haired woman was beautiful, but something about her felt… dead to Zinaerys. Not evil, or even ugly, but a presence sat undefined on the empty stool next to the newcomer. “So, I hear you folks also run an inn upstairs.”

“We do. Lookin’ for a room to spend the night in?”

The woman smiled. “Maybe. Rather find a man to spend it with, though.” Despite the obvious implication, something about the woman didn’t sit right with Zinaerys. Her clothes were dark and revealing, but nothing that screamed prostitute or even dangerous. Yet Zinaerys’ gut feelings were rarely wrong. From the Otherness of her otherwise human face, Zinaerys decided she was a mage of some kind, and not the kind she wanted to be on the wrong side of. “Got any fellas upstairs who might want some company?” It seemed as if she were looking for someone, or a something specifically.

Zinaerys looked appraisingly at this young human. “Just a couple, and none the type to take a woman tonight. Usually our guests come down for at least dinner, and neither came down tonight.” The human’s eyes glittered, and she opened her mouth to speak, but another customer slid onto a stool.

“Hey there, sweetheart. Mind filling me up again?” The hulking man grinned roguishly at her, before handing her his jug.

“Got gold enough for that?” Zinaerys asked, raising an eyebrow. The man’s grin faded, and he slid five silverss across the bar. Zinaerys pocketed the money, and moved to fill him up.

“Say, where you from, Darlin’?” The man asked, looking her up and down.

“Kressia.”

“Yeah but where you really from? ‘Snot like we get a lot of your type here.” He laughed, then muttered derisively, “Pointy eared bastards. Not that you’re not a looker,” he added, “but you’re half human, aren’t you?”

“I was born here, same as you,” said Zinaerys unsmiling. She slid his drink across the bar.

He whistled. “So cold. I’m just playing nice. How about you, honey?” He turned to the mage, who had been watching intently. “Feeling a bit nicer than the half breed?” Zinaerys clenched her teeth.

The woman cocked her head. “Does that sort of line usually work?”

The man leered and moved closer, “If you’re dressed like that-” he continued, but Zinaerys was distracted by a handsome looking knife haphazardly shoved in the side of his belt. “-clearly you’re looking for attention.” He finished, his gaze missing the woman’s by about a foot. The woman stood aggressively, and as he watched her appreciatively, clearly not sensing the danger Zinaerys did, Zinaerys reached a hand across the bar, and quietly took the dagger. Under the bar, she examined it quickly. Dull, useless, but an incredibly beautiful handle, dwarven-made. The blade quality was so unlike the handle that Zinaerys could help but feel like some noble stuck a butter knife on a family heirloom. She put the knife away, and was distracted, as was the dark-haired witch, by the man’s friends, a group of ruffians that were circling a poor student. The young man was obviously magic, given the scrolls and pointed hat upon his head, and living as cheaply as most students at the Academy do.

“Come on now magic boy! Show us a trick!” The three men gathered around the wizard as he desperately tried to pack up his things. Zinaerys’ thug, who was clearly the biggest, stood and joined in, exclaiming, “Now here’s a fine young lad! What do you say to a friendly battle of strength, man to man? Surely you can’t say no!”

The boy quietly quietly but firmly said no.

“Come now, boy! Put ‘er there!” And he set his arm down and made to arm wrestle with the man, who now looked little more than a boy. It was hardly fair, the hulking ruffian against the slight wizard, and Zinaerys smelled trouble. This could get out of hand quickly.

And it did.

When the boy surprisingly won the arm wrestling, the ruffian accused him of cheating. He reached behind him and-

“You stole my knife!” He roared. _Oops_.

“What? No! I- How could I? I’m over here-” The scholar grabbed his bag and slowly moved backward, stumbling slightly, holding onto his hat.

“Did you put it in your hat there? Move it? Vanish it?”

“That’s… not really possible-”

“I am sick and tired of you magic users coming in here, acting so superior-”

“Look man,” A new voice broke in. The hooded man from the corner has some sort of hero complex, and had decided to step in. “The kid clearly doesn’t have your knife. And he won, fair and square.” Something red glinted under the man’s hood.

“Oh ho ho. What do we have here? I know a few people who would pay a hefty price for a dragonborn.” The man- dragon born- grabbed a bottle quick as lightning and smashed it on the Ruffian’s head. This did nothing but enrage the man further, and soon the bar was in an all out fight.

Zinaerys sighed as the dragon born was thrown across the room. The scholar made an apology to one of the thugs, but electrocuted him with his hand. Neat. It’d be preferable if they took this outside, however. Zinaerys pulled down her shirt a little, and watched as a fire broke out in the corner of the room.

As a thug ran past, fearful of the fire, Zinaerys grabbed him, and pulled him close. He wasn’t reluctant, and Zinaerys was reluctantly grateful for her elven charm. “Look, sweetie,” She said dragging a finger slowly up his arm, “Can’t you persuade your boy to take it outside?” Zinaerys batted her eyelashes, and watched over his shoulder as the two other ruffians made a barricade from a large table. “I’d be so-” a small explosion “grateful.”

The man looked at her, and blinked slowly.

He drunkenly started “S’pose I could-” before he was taken out by the witch woman from earlier. Zinaerys sighed again,l and resigned herself to engage in this petty fight that somehow had turned into a full brawl. At least she would get some shooting practice in.

First, she surveyed the damage. Scholar boy was on the ground, unconscious, the big ruffian who had hit on her, electrocuted beside him. Dead at her feet, the hapless fool, the dragon born was making a fool of himself, throwing chairs at the sideways barricade-table. The witch lady was laughing, and the fire from earlier was gone. An illusion. Rather clever of the dark haired witch.

Zinaerys slid lengthwise down the bar, until she came parallel with the shaky fortress. With her small bow, she shot an arrow through on of the thug’s head, straight through his left eye. Bullseye.

Unfortunately, as the other ruffian moved to evade Zinaerys’ shot, he moved into the sight line of the dragon born, who threw another chair. The thug stumbled back, hit a brazier with his arm, which fell onto the broken remains of a bottle of almost pure alcohol.

The fire traveled up the spill, onto other drinks, until Zinaerys could only watch with fascination as the bar slowly started to burn. She did the only logical thing- got the hell out of there. She only slowed to grab the limp body of the scholar who started all the trouble, and was followed outside by the dragon born and witch lady, and a crawling thug. He looked up with wild eyes, muttered “Crazy… all of you…” before running down the street.

So stood a human mage, a half-elf, and a dragon born, in the middle of a dark street, watching a building burn, an unconscious young mage at their feet. It was almost peaceful, the stars shining, matching the brilliance of the fire before them.

Suddenly, the mage turned to Zinaerys. “I’m Ember.What’s your name? I’ve been calling you The Bartender in my head.”

“You’ve been mage lady in mine. The name’s Zi.”

“Cool. I’m going to climb into the burning building now.”

“What?” Zi watched in fascination as Ember scaled the side of the building, and climbed through the second story window. Zi heard shout from within, then a mattress was flung out of the window. The fire started to spread to the surrounding buildings, and the support beams inside the bar were collapsing one by one.

“I don't know of any plans! I swear I'm just a bookkeep- AAAHHHHGH” thump. The short man who bought a room earlier in the day landed mostly on the mattress, and then Ember landed on him, shattering his clearly already broken legs. The dragon born ran forward, empathizing with the ‘bookkeeper.’ The poor man looked up at him with tears in his eyes, then promptly passed out.

Zinaerys looked at Ember. “Out of the two people staying in my inn, you saved the random guy over the literal Royal Messenger?”

Ember giggled. “Saved might be too kind of a word.”

The dragon born stood in righteous fury. “I’ll say. What gives you the right-”

“Well, well, well,” said a voice from behind the group. “The Patrician will certainly want to hear about this.” And before any of them could react, their eyes were filled with blue smoke, and the world went black.

**Author's Note:**

> Zinaerys- Zin-EAR-ees (Zi- Zee)


End file.
